


Meet Cute at the 20th Precinct

by thymogenic (orphan_account)



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: Adam Gets Arrested, But No Actual Peeping Toms, Courthouse Sex, Derogatory Language Towards Police Officers, Drinking, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of Peeping Toms, Mentions of Violence, Promises of More Sex, Vivid Descriptions of Sexual Fantasies, bathroom hookup, cursing, double barrel, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thymogenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam gets arrested and meets a handsome stranger in a police station. Somehow, drunken kisses ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At the twentieth precinct on the upper west side of Manhattan, the metallic bench where Adam is bodily thrust down is hard and cold, the side where he has been placed and cuffed to having been previously unoccupied. His padded reproduction space suit softens the blow to his cute bottom enough for him to just feel the pressure of the impact without any of the sting.

The arresting officer informs him that he will have to wait a while, due to the high volume of activity in the precinct, it being a holiday weekend and all. She leaves him sitting on the bench, his knees brought up to his chest and his arms wrapped around to keep them from falling. He is slowly rocking back and forth with his aquamarine eyes clamped shut, his lovely brunette curls displaced from being manhandled in and out of the police vehicle.

Adam has never been arrested and he is now scared out of his wits, imagining all of the bad things that could happen to him as a result of this terrible misunderstanding. He’s lucky to be in the waiting area outside the booking desks, and not in a cell. He thinks about the possibility of them moving him there after being booked. Would the inmates touch his suit…or worse, his body? Then, he thinks about getting big fines. He thinks about getting probation. Doing hours and hours of community service. He thinks about having to be registered as a sex offender. He thinks and thinks and thinks and he starts breathing in and out rapidly and sweating and covering his ears to shield them from the busy rabble of the precinct and just as he feels like he’s gonna faint - a gentle tap on his shoulder snaps him out of it. Adam opens his eyes and removes his hands from his ears but he doesn’t turn his head to look just yet.

“Are you fucking alright, gorgeous?” a concerned and accented voice sort of slurs at him. Adam glances over at the man sharing the bench with him, of whom he was entirely unaware until just a second ago, trapped in the tunnel of his anxiety. The man smells of scotch and cigarettes, and he is wearing a gaudy patterned shirt, with cartoon wiener dogs all over it. Otherwise, he’s actually not half bad, with his high cheek bones and sculpted jawline dusted with a pepper grey five o’clock shadow. His hair is a similar shade, and frames his angular face just right. The stranger looks at him and smiles, something soft, and continues speaking, “Do you need some help? I can call one of the pigs over if necessary.”

Adam’s brows raise in confusion, “Pigs?”

The stranger scoffs a bit, “Yeah, fucking pigs. You know, police officers?”

Adam tucks this new word away into his private vocabulary and then continues to speak, suddenly letting what social protocols he personally subscribes to take over. “No, thank you. I’m Adam, what’s your name?” And with that Adam holds his left hand out in greeting, because his right hand is cuffed to the bar of the bench.

The stranger regards Adam’s hand, as if to admire the beauty of it, then extends his right uncuffed one. They meet at an awkward angle, but shake all the same. “It's a pleasure, Adam. I'm Nigel.” Adam pulls his hand away and looks at the floor, blushing, which does not escape Nigel’s notice, even as drunk as he is.

“Pardon my forwardness, but you seem to be a bundle of nerves. Do you want to talk about it?” Nigel tilts his head charmingly as he speaks, trying to coax the pretty spaceman into making eye contact. Adam shakes his head, still somewhat in the grip of apprehension. He just wants to be out of this place and this situation.

Nigel continues, “You know we’re going to be here a while.” He then gestures with his chin in the direction of the cluster fuck of a precinct, full of drunks and fighters and victims. “Would you like something to help take the edge off?”

At that, Adam turns his head to curiously look at Nigel. “What do you mean?”

Nigel doesn’t speak but leans down to cautiously remove a small silver flask from his pant leg, scanning the room for any glances that might give him trouble. “These pigs are terrible friskers.” Then he holds it up for Adam to inspect, the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs glinting off the metallic surface, making it look quite alluring.

Adam takes it quickly and tucks it into the space between his right elbow and his side, while he considers taking a sip. "What's in here?"

Nigel gives a big shark-toothed grin and says, "The finest single malt scotch I've ever had in my life. I promise you won't regret it."

Adam is not usually inclined to drink alcohol. He doesn't like the loss of control. But, right now he's willing to do anything just to feel even a little bit better. He looks around to make sure no one is paying attention, then takes the flask into his free hand and unscrews the top with a few deft twists of his fingers. Nigel eyes him, pleased at corrupting this unsual, sweet thing, dressed like he just came off a movie set - or the waiting room of a psychiatric institution.

Adam tilts his head back, angling the flask to get just the right amount into his mouth. He doesn't swallow right away, but instead let's the caramel liquid sit on his tongue stingingly, as he screws the cap on and tucks it back under his arm. Then he swallows. What he tastes brings visions of peated moss and the glowing embers of chopped wood. He tastes smoky pleasure, subtly virile. He then looks at Nigel and thinks what a fitting match the two are, smoky booze and enticing stranger.

Adam thinks Nigel might want his nice alcohol back, so he goes to hand it to him, but Nigel puts a hand up, "No, no thank you, darling. I've had enough. You finish it off."

Adam nods appreciatively and takes another swig. "So, Nigel, why are you here?"

Nigel rubs at the back of his neck and smiles more at Adam. "That's a long story…" he watches Adam sip some more, "but I guess we've both got the time."

***

It's a blessing that the police department is so fucking busy. No one pays them any mind, even as they get louder and louder as the minutes tick by and they talk animatedly about their troubles, inching closer to each other imperceptibly, until they are practically sitting in each others laps. Hands drunkenly graze thighs and arms as their revelry drowns out all logic and social conventions.

Adam's cheeks blush with the heat of his inebriation and he gestures with his hands as he speaks "…so, so, I'm trying to explain to the screaming woman that I wasn't watching her, while trying to get my balance back, and I'm really scared because I'm just dangling from the roof now with only one of the tethers. And I'm trying not to think about the possiblity of the remaining one snapping, too. And she won't listen or stop being hysterical and she starts to call the cops and…and…I just can't believe I got into all this trouble just trying to clean my windows, Nigel. I kept telling the officers I just wanted to see the stars and pointing at my space suit, thinking they would understand that I put it on to keep from getting dirty. But in retrospect, maybe that wasn't the best idea."

Nigel is laughing hard now, overcome with joy at this story of how Adam got mistaken for a peeping tom. Then, Adam grabs his shoulder and looks him deep in the eye, "and you Nigel, you shouldn't fight in pubs anymore! No matter how rude those, those…what did you call them?" Adam places a finger on luscious lips and thinks, "Ah, yes, those 'fucking runty cunts' are to you. You're much too handsome and nice and good to be in a police station!"

Nigel looks at Adam's finger on his lips, and licks his own. He doesn't take his eyes off of them as he speaks, "You think I'm handsome, Adam?" Adam blushes more and nods, and he starts looking at Nigel's mouth, too. 

And then without any warning Adam brings his face close to Nigel's and he starts kissing him. It's something timid at first, and the two men just kind of brush their lips against each other, not yet tasting or exploring. It's not long before Nigel opens his lips and kisses Adam more, adding the wet inner linings of his lips and reaching up to cradle Adam's jaw with a strong hand. Adam gasps a little 'oh' at the increasing sensations, and he doesn't try holding back at all as he opens his mouth to Nigel, and they begin kissing deeply with curious tongues. Then suddenly someone familiar to Adam comes into the waiting area.

"ADAM?!" The voice is thick with shock and worry turned to anger and it suddenly pulls the the two men out of their own little world that they had been playing in for the past couple of hours.

Adam laughs nervously and scratches his head, "Oh hi, Harlan," Adam greets and waves a little, "I can explain…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, due to some very lovely encouragement, I've decided to extend the story~ Enjoy!

Harlan immediately goes up to them and swiftly, with great strength powered by fury, pushes them apart with both of his arms. He then promptly sits down in the newly created space, huffs out a big blast of air, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Adam shifts over to the edge of the bench to make more space for Harlan, looking at the ground mournfully. Nigel moves over, too, but the smug smile he was wearing doesn't leave his face. He's still on cloud nine after kissing the beautiful spaceman on the opposite end of the bench.

Harlan begins sniffing at the air in front of Adam, after catching the scent of alcohol, then closes his eyes, trying to hold in his emotions. "Adam. Adam. Have you been drinking?"

Adam starts rubbing at his right arm. "Well, yes, but only after I got arrested."

Harlan's eyes open wide in disbelief but he still doesn't look at either man. "Adam, how in God's name could you be drinking alcohol _after_ getting arrested?"

"I was starting to have an anxiety attack after I was put here, and Nigel was nice enough to give me some of his scotch to 'help take the edge off'," Adam says, looking over now very fondly at Nigel, leaning back so Harlan's figure no longer obstructs his view. Nigel mirrors his movements and returns his glance with strong affection and a dreamy grin.

Harlan's neck whips his head to the left to death stare at Nigel, who's attention is suddenly grabbed by the angry man's strong words, speaking hushedly but no less forcibly, stabbing his finger into Nigel's chest as he speaks. "YOU MOTHER FUCKER! How dare you get a vulnerable, innocent person drunk and then take advantage of them physically?! And right outside the booking room no less? You gonna get him in even more fucking trouble than he already is! I swear to God if we weren't in a police station, I'd throttle the damn life out of you, you no good son of a bitch!"

Nigel can sense a sort of fatherly devotion at the source of Harlan's concern, and he is glad that Adam has someone who cares deeply for him and wants him to be safe. He can see how this saccharine space angel could inspire the desire to protect and care for in anybody lucky enough to get to know him. He suddenly feels very sober, and he doesn't get angry at Harlan at all, even though under any other circumstances, he'd be punching his teeth into the back of his fucking throat for talking to him like that.

"You're absolutely right. I should have controlled myself more. But, please know that I was just attempting to help Adam out, as he was in quite a bad way when the officers just left him on the bench like that. I didn't know how else to lift his spirits." Nigel tries his best to look sincerely at Harlan to let him know he's not bullshitting.

Harlan feels a little less angry at Nigel's apology, but the circumstances and what's been done to poor Adam still has his blood boiling. He just starts shaking his head and mutters to himself, "Unfuckingbelievable."

Adam fidgets on his part of the bench. He didn't want to stop kissing Nigel just yet, and he never would want to disappoint Harlan the way he has, first getting arrested for being a peeping tom, and then, making out drunkenly with a total stranger while they are both handcuffed to a metal bench in the waiting room of a police station. How is he ever going to make this up to Harlan? And…how is he going to find a way to touch Nigel again and taste whiskey flavored lips?

Then, Adam hiccups loudly, covering his mouth in surprised modesty. Harlan glares at him. Nigel laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again! Smut next chapter~

A few weeks later, Adam is at the courthouse for the hearing of his peeping tom case. He arrived early, nervous as hell, but very prepared to prove his innocence.

He had been assigned an actually helpful public defender (like, miraculously, so, so miraculously), who had gotten the court to subpoena some CCTV footage taken from the rooftop camera of the building over. It showed Adam very obviously cleaning his windows, when suddenly one of the two tethers holding him up snapped, and he swung down and over to the apartment a floor down, where a woman just happened to be at her window, about to get dressed. 

Adam was also able to get a sworn written testimony from his psychiatrist describing his condition. Should the county prosecutor try to cast doubt using testimony of his peculiar behavior after being caught, he could also defend that by explaining his difficulties with social interactions, especially under duress.

Now, he is sitting in the second to last row of the seats designated to the public, where spectators and those waiting to have their cases heard should be. He sees some other people who were at the same precinct as him, on the same day, and he becomes hopeful that maybe he'll be able to see Nigel again. After he got booked, he and Nigel got separated. He made bail right away, thanks to Harlan, and was unable to get any contact information from Nigel before he was released.

Adam had thought of Nigel often in the succeeding weeks. He bought a really expensive bottle of peated single malt scotch. He never drank any of it. Instead, he would put some in a glass and sniff at it, replaying what he recalled from the day they met in his mind like scenes from an artsy blue movie.

The mise en scene would carefully reconstruct itself in his imagination, put into action by the powerful scent of the scotch - the noisy precinct, the cold, metal bench, a gruffy laugh echoed out of lush lips, a close-up of a tender hand placed on the soft skin of a pretty jawline, fast movements of mouths on mouths crushed together in fervent exploration.

Adam would screen this treasured memory, a beam of desirous and fun light in an otherwise very dark day, and imagine even more of what he wished they could have done together. Secret hand jobs given in full view of the waiting room. Quiet lovemaking in a private cell. Steamy shower sex in a jail bathroom. He would create these varieties of erotic scenarios and touch himself forlornly, in the cool, white sheets of his bed and under the hot jets of his showerhead. But, it was never enough. He wanted the real thing. And hoped Nigel did, too, should they ever be fortunate enough to cross paths again.

The seats fill up as the time ticks closer to the opening of court. Adam keeps an eye out every time he hears the courtroom doors swing open.

Finally, just a minute before court is to be in session, the handsome stranger he had been anticipating seeing again walks in. Only this time, he looks very different; impossibly, he is even more alluring than Adam remembered him. He is dressed in an all black suit, probably bespoke, he is clean shaven, and his hair is gelled back in an effort to make him look like more of an upstanding citizen. Not much to be done about the garish tattoo on his neck.

Adam looks down at his own cheap suit disparagingly, wishing he had worn his nicer suit now that he sees how good Nigel looks. Then, he looks back up to find Nigel's eyes locked on him, an expectant smile on his face. He waves hello at Adam but doesn't stop to talk. Adam is filled with thrilling happiness at the warm greeting, overwhelmed with joy that he was able to see Nigel again after all.

Nigel keeps walking up to the first row of seats, and it becomes apparent that he is not alone. Another man followed after him, also well dressed, and holding a briefcase. Nigel has hired a private attorney.

The judge comes in and everyone stands. Nigel is first to be called up to the defendant's table.

Nigel must have spent a lot of money on his lawyer - he's very good. Despite having many priors and a few witness, although somewhat dubious, testimonies from other patrons of the pub he was at, the lawyer is able to get the assault charges put aside in exchange for Nigel agreeing to mandatory alcohol rehabilitation and anger management classes. Adam's heart flutters at the knowledge that not only will Nigel not be thrown in jail, but he will also get what seems like much needed help.

After his case is settled, he says good bye to his lawyer with a handshake and a pat on the back, and he goes and sits next to Adam. They don't speak. They just sit there, grinning and blushing, occasionally stealing glances out the corners of their eyes.

After a couple of hours, Adam finally gets called up, his public defender waiting for him already at the defendant's table. Nigel sees how nervous Adam is, and he squeezes his hand reassuringly as Adam stands to face the judge.

***

Adam's hearing goes very well, and his case gets dismissed. After hearing the judge's final word on everything, Adam rushes over to Nigel and hugs him hard. Nigel is surprised, but definitely elated at the sudden gesture of intimacy, and he hugs Adam back just as strongly. They leave the courtroom together, holding hands.

Out in the hallway, they sit closely on a bench near the restrooms, knees pointed at each other, mirrored body language abound, laughing and talking like old lovers.

"I'm so glad you didn't get in too much trouble, Nigel!" Adam beams at the suave, older man.

Nigel brings his hand up and brushes Adam's cheek with the back of his knuckles. "I wasn't worried about it. The other guys weren't too injured in the scrap, and I have a very good lawyer. Congratulations on your stunning victory as well, darling."

He then looks at Adam from head to toe, admiring his neat appearance in his cute black suit and white dress shirt. He starts playing with Adam's tie, flirtatiously running it between his thumb and fingers, down it's length, tugging as he speaks. "It's very nice to see you in something a little more…form-fitting. Didn't see fit to bring your astronaut suit to court then, my gorgeous spaceman?"

Adam's cheeks warm at Nigel's come-hither looks and almost possessive choice of words. He makes strong eye contact with Nigel, his system now flooding with vasopressin as arousal takes hold. "Nigel…I…I'm so glad we had the same court date. I didn't know how to find you…I've been thinking of you so much and I really wanted to see you again." Nigel doesn't say anything but instead smiles minutely, and then he brings a thumb up to run across the length of Adam's beautiful mouth. 

Adam continues, "I couldn't forget the kisses we shared."

Nigel sighs softly and finally speaks, looking at the floor, now holding Adam's hands in his. "I've been fucking dreaming about those kisses non-stop, Adam. The way you tasted. How soft your mouth was. I didn't try to find you because your friend was so upset, and he was right about me putting you more at risk that day. I felt so guilty. And I was worried you'd be upset, too, after the fun haziness of the scotch went away…" Nigel looks into Adam's eyes now, "I'm so glad you feel the same as me, though."

Adam licks his lips and looks lustily at Nigel. He utters his name, breathing hard. Nigel's breathing increases, too. They keep looking at each other, knowingly. Moments that feel like forever pass by, and then suddenly, after glancing at the empty hallway in both directions to make sure the coast is clear, Nigel stands and pulls Adam up. He sighs again deeply and mutters, "Ah, fuckit," under his breath. Then he walks them both hastily into the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing but smut in here. Get ready for the double barrel.

The bathroom is blissfully empty, as Nigel drags Adam down to the last stall intended for those with wheelchairs. It is nice and spacey. He goes in first and sits on the toilet with the seat cover put down, then gestures for Adam to come to him. Adam wastes no time in jumping into his lap and straddling him. He's so achingly hard for Nigel, and after grinding his pelvis into the dashing man, he's ecstatic to find that Nigel is, too. They press their foreheads together, breathing hard, and looking into each other's lust-fogged eyes.

“Do you want me, darling? I want you so fucking bad...” Nigel says, voice quiet but firm, his tone deep with lasciviousness, as he begins running his hands up and down Adam's back, under his suit jacket.

Adam moans at the admission and Nigel's throaty delivery, nodding his head reactively and without thought, as his whole body sings with affirmation. He grasps Nigel's face in both of his hands, and sucks at his bottom lip. Then, he pulls back to look at Nigel, hardly believing his luck at meeting him again.

Adam then whispers his reply, addled with desire, as if by speaking softly he can control the overwhelming arousal threatening to consume and control his movements like an incubus possessing his mortal form: “I want you, Nigel. I want you. So many times I imagined having you. I'm all yours, I swear.” And then Adam kisses Nigel with searing open-mouthed movements, their tongues tussling against each other like mating snakes.

Nigel groans openly. He relishes in the flavor of Adam's mouth, it now being untainted with the sting of alcohol, and purely Adam. His mouth is hot and sweet and soft and perfect. Nigel relishes in the sloppy wet sounds of their kissing echoing against the tiled surfaces of the bathroom, their heavy breathing as well. He relishes in the reassuring weight of Adam's body against his, settled in his lap – it reminds him that this is real and not an illusion, the pressure of it being something that had always lacked in his dreams. He relishes in the sensation of their meeting sexes, bolts of pleasure shooting up his spine every time they rub against each other through rustling fabric.

Nigel abruptly grabs a handful of pretty brown curls, and yanks Adam's head back, forcing Adam's face to stare at the ceiling, his mouth open with a surprised groan. Adam's breaths come out louder, his windpipe now fully opened up. Nigel takes the opportunity to slowly contemplate the elegant neck now vulnerable for attack. The tendons and muscles pulled taut make for a gorgeous vision, their lines inviting to be followed up and down with the tip of Nigel's handsome nose. And at his pulse, thrumming with life. Nigel takes in Adam's subtle smell. He never wants to forget it. Then, he asks Adam, as he nuzzles into the crook between Adam's neck and shoulder, “What did you imagine, sweet spaceman?”

Adam doesn't try to move his head, enjoying the possessive, dominant grip Nigel has on him, but instead closes his eyes to recollect his lurid fantasies. “I imagined touching you, Nigel, while kissing on the bench. My uncuffed hand was inside your pants, masturbating you until you came all over the front of my spacesuit. You called out my name as you finished.”

Nigel hums in approval, and begins sucking at the skin above his Adam's apple, “Go on.”

Adam moans at the wet, warm feeling on his skin, and continues.“I imagined us together in a holding cell. Just us two. You stripped me bare and then had sex with me on the hard, cold bunk after they turned out all the lights. You were on top of me, thrusting hard, and you had your hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. You called out my name as you finished.”

Nigel sees the imaginings of this beautiful man atop him clear as day in his mind. Listening to Adam voice his lusty desires is building an ecstasy within him he can hardly contain, but he wants to draw this out more and savor it so, he starts sucking painfully delicious kiss marks onto the side of Adam's neck. It feels so good, that Adam doesn't care who will see them in the days to come. “Please continue, Adam. What else did you think about, while you were missing me in our temporary separation?”

Adam reels from Nigel's question, his heart rate quickening at the words 'temporary separation', and he is so happy of their implications. He continues his confession as Nigel starts lapping more at his exposed throat. “I imagined us in a steamy jail shower room. Washing each other futilely before we have soapy shower sex against the tiled wall. You pound into me so nicely, before we get covered in sweat and semen, and have to wash all over again, laughing. You called out my name as you finished.”

Nigel releases his grip on Adam's hair and pulls on his tie to bring their mouths crashing into each other for another searing kiss. Then, nearly breathless, Nigel praises Adam, “Adam, you're fucking perfect. I can't wait to make all your fantasies come true...minus the jail part. I am not going back there.” And they both laugh and then kiss some more.

Adam can hardly stand not being able to touch Nigel another second, so he reaches down to Nigel's belt and deftly unbuckles it, then he opens the the clasp on his slacks and pulls down the zipper. Nigel bats his hand away, and then does the same to Adam, before pulling them both out of their sartorial confines. Their erections spring out happily and Adam looks at them, comparing their difference in appearance and size. Adam is circumcised, his cock neat and uniform in girth and color. It stands nice and straight up in arousal. The head glistens with precum. Nigel's cock however, is something else entirely. It is uncut. The foreskin at the tip a shade darker than the shaft, which tapers down a bit at the head, from the thick girth at the root. It curves slightly upward, so that if Nigel fucks Adam while he's on his back, he'll be hitting against the nub of pleasure nestled around his bladder beautifully with every thrust. They are perfect together, now both taken in hand by Nigel.

It feels a bit rough at first, so Nigel puts his other hand up to Adam's mouth, and he asks for some lovely spit, which Adam happily obliges. Nigel deliciously spreads the fluid over their heads and down the shafts before moving in a steady, wonderful rhythm. Adam gasps as Nigel manipulates them both, reveling in the velvety feeling of the underside of Nigel's dick against his. They begin kissing more and more, and it's not long before Adam feels like he could come at any second, so he asks Nigel worriedly, “Are we going to have sex now, Nigel? Because I don't think it will be very long before I orgasm. Are you close, too?”

“Baby, I'm so fucking close. You feel so good. Don't worry. I won't have the first time we fuck be in a dingy courthouse bathroom. I wanna do it right. Take our time. I want you to be comfortable while I put you in a pleasure coma.” And then Nigel's breath hitches as he increases the pace, his and Adam's orgasm impending so soon.

“I don't want to be in a pleasure coma, Nigel. I want to be awake to hear you call my name as you finish.” With that, Adam adds his own hands to help Nigel touch them faster and more firmly. Adam's comment makes Nigel laugh, but then there's nothing else he can think about other than the need to come and how good Adam feels in his hands and on his cock.

“Adam, I gonna fucking come. I'm gonna fucking come. You feel so good, baby.” Their foreheads bump together as they pant and moan.

“Me too, Nigel. You feel so amazing. I'm gonna come, too.” And then they both hit the pinnacle of pleasure at the same time, ejaculating messily all over their hands. Nigel groans out Adam's name roughly, and it's better than anything Adam had imagined.

Laughing and breathless, they kiss happily, before Adam gets up to grab some toilet paper to clean them up. Then they both arrange themselves and wash their hands in the sink, dreamy, sated expressions plastered all over their faces.

Nigel holds the door open for Adam as they exit the bathroom. Walking out, Adam asks Nigel, “Are you going to come to my place and fuck me now? It's nearly my lunch time and I have to go home to eat. I have lots of macaroni and cheese if you want some. Then, we can have sex afterwards.” A bailiff coming into the bathroom at the same time hears everything, and blushes bright tomato red, but says nothing and averts his eyes before going in. Nigel laughs out loud.

“If that's what you would like, spaceman. It would be my pleasure.”


End file.
